Someone To Fight For
by arirang
Summary: She needed freedom. He needed love. Hwoarang finds the girl who gives his life meaning and can be someone to fight for...until the day that changed both their lives. Set before T3, HwoaxOC. Enjoy!
1. Chapter One: H

Mwahaha my first Tekken fanfic and an idea I've been playing with recently . Two notes: won is S Korean currency and one thousand won is equivalent to one US dollar. Also, Korean and English expressions are very different but I'll use English expressions so as not to confuse y'all. Yesh. Enjoy and REVIEW (and get a big big hug) !!!

Disclaimer: Yeh yeh I don't own Hwoarang, Baek, Heihachi, Jin, or Marshall Law (if I use him...I don't know yet P) but everyone else is MINE. And I'm not repeating myself, so go screw a wall. Yeh.

arirang

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Chapter One

_How long is Jungho going to take?_ –I sighed to myself, glancing around the dark alleyway. There were several beaten up garbage cans a few meters away, and trash littered the smelly dirt. Tall brick walls loomed over us, with graffiti sprawled across their surfaces.

I watched the faces of the other gang, the Razor Kings. There were about a dozen of them, all big and muscular, and all wearing an assortment of torn muscle shirts, ragged jeans, and spiky bracelets. They weren't particularly good-looking, and the smug looks on their faces made me want to laugh. They were about to be _whipped_.

The fight going on wasn't really interesting. My gang looked as bored as I was. The fighter from the Razor Kings, a giant named Chul Joo, was strong, but lacked technique. Jungho, the closest of my gang members to me, was clearly enjoying himself as he pretended to be beaten up.

My foot tapped impatiently. Finally, Jungho fell to the ground, his lip and nose bleeding, and pleaded mercy.

Chul Joo smirked, holding out an enormous hand. "Pay up," he sneered.

I put on a reluctant, disappointed face. "Here," I sighed, handing him a wad of won. "How about we bet on one more match, eh?"

The Razor Kings all glanced at each other, those stupid smiles on their faces. I couldn't wait to wipe them off. Chun Joo grinned, "Sure. One hundred thousand won."

I shook my head. "Five hundred thousand, if one person beats every single one of you," I said. My mask fell, and I let my confidence show through. "Agreed?" I asked, holding out my hand.

He slapped it. "Agreed. Who's going up against me?" I could tell he thought I was the biggest fool in the world.

My smile grew broader. "Me, Hwoarang."

Chul Joo's small black eyes scanned my body. To him, I must've seemed puny (hey, I'm only 181 centimeters, and he was probably 220!), and no match at all. I was wearing a loose black hoodie with a fancy skull on the front, and baggy, torn-up jeans, so he couldn't tell if I was strong or not. He laughed to his gang, "Do you all mind if I want to smash his head into the wall first?"

The Razor Kings snickered.

Chul Joo cracked his knuckles and took up a fighting stance. "Think of all the beer I could get with that money," he said, beckoning with his studded leather gloved hand.

Before he could react, I ran, jumped, and flew at him with five rapid-fire kicks to his jaw. "What the fuck!" he yelled, stumbling and crashing to the ground, all 150 kilo of him. I was surprised he could still talk after an attack like that, and hoped he wouldn't take more than three minutes.

Anyway, I wasn't a cheap guy. I stood by at a distance as he heaved himself up with a grunt. He was swaying unsteadily. Good. Without any balance, he was _mine_. "Haven't had enough?" I asked.

"Son-of-a-bitch," he snarled, throwing a massive punch at me.

Damn, he was _slow_, even for a giant. I easily sidestepped and lashed out with a low kick. And again, he tumbled.

When Chul Joo got up again (which took a while), he didn't spare words but lunged at me, arms widespread in an attempt to grapple. Well, he was getting smarter. He knew that it would be hard to dodge a grapple.

But, Chul Joo didn't know _me_. I rolled out of the way—yes, I was willing to get my hoodie dirty…it was five hundred thousand won, after all—and planted a solid kick on his expansive backside. Strutting over to his fallen body, I dug my heel into the back of his head, grinding his nose into the dirt. It must've hurt, considering I was wearing my motorcycle boots, and I thought I saw blood seeping into the ground.

"Next!" I called to the Razor Kings.

One by one, they came. One by one, I gave them a good beating. Chul Joo had taken the longest—most of the others didn't take more than half a minute.

Walking through the streets of Seoul with five hundred thousand won in my pocket that evening, my gang and I searched the rows of buildings for a decent pub. Jungho pointed to a filthy looking place with an ugly, rotting sign over the door: Changnan Nightclub. I'd been there once before, and it hadn't been that bad. Jungho grinned at the gang. "It's got beer, women, and music," he said. "What more do you want?"

I took out the winnings of the day and counted the gang members with me. There were eleven Blood Talons, including me. I handed them each forty-five thousand, and kept fifty thousand for myself.

"You rock, kid," said Hyun Min, an older gang member in his twenties, as he stuffed the money in his pocket.

I punched his arm lightly. "Call me kid again and I'll smear the dance floor with your guts," I joked.

"Poor baby's having a tantrum," he retorted. The gang laughed, including me. I loved my gang right then—we weren't exactly all friends, but I always had a great time with them.

Slapping me on the back, the Blood Talons followed me inside. It was kind of small, but the dance floor looked decent, the place wasn't too filthy, and it didn't smell that bad. We each handed won to the girl at the counter and headed into the main room. Most of my gang members went for the arcade or the bar, but Jungho, a short guy named Tae Yeol, and I pushed our way into the middle of the crowd of dancers. I recognized a handful of them from my side of Seoul, and nodded in greeting.

Weeping Witch by Rumble Fish, one of my favorite Korean rock bands, came on as the last song finished. My foot tapped to the beat as I waited for the intro to finish. My body swayed to the beat, my fingers snapped on time, my head bobbed to the rhythm. I let myself drown in the music.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungho and Tae Yeol had each found a woman, and they were certainly enjoying themselves. Jungho turned and noticed my gaze. He gave me a ha-I've-got-a-girl-and-you-don't look, his eyebrows raised and his mouth quirked up conceitedly.

I flicked him off, already searching the crowd for a decent chick of my own. A really cute girl was dancing a few feet away from me, with short, layered dark hair in a ponytail and long bangs framing her face. She was wearing a simple red shirt and jeans, and I could tell she had a nice body. But she looked sort of shy and awkward, as if she didn't know anyone.

I weaved through the mass of bodies until I was behind her. My hands snaked out, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her towards me. I heard her sharp intake of breath and laughed.

She twisted around sharply and glared at me. Up close, her face was even cuter. She had large, soft dark brown eyes framed by long lashes, and her nose was attractive and delicate. She wasn't as sexy as the whores that hung around my gang or the ones at the brothel I often went to, but she had an innocent, naïve look that intrigued me.

"Hey, baby," I said, giving her my best smile, the one that melted all the ladies.

It did its work. Her glare softened and she glanced down shyly. "Hi," she murmured.

I lifted her chin up to face me. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Um…" she hesitated. "Soobin."

That wasn't her real name, obviously. She was a decent liar, but I was better, and I could see through it. "I'm Hwoarang," I told her. Soobin's face didn't register any recognition. _She must be from the other side of Seoul, 'cause everyone around here has heard of me_ –I thought. "Where do you live?"

Her eyes grew confused. She probably thought I was some sort of stalker. "Why do you want to know?" she asked defensively.

I snorted, "Whoa, now, I'm not going to hunt you down and rape you." She flinched in my arms, and I laughed harder. "Everyone around these parts has heard of me. You don't though, so you're probably from another part of Seoul."

Soobin shrugged. "Maybe." She was still on her guard, and I stifled another laugh. What a weird kid.

The song ended and a slow, sweet K-pop song started playing, one I didn't recognize (I wasn't a big fan of pop anyway). "Dance with me," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist tighter.

She hesitated before reaching up to put her hand around me neck. For a few moments, we swayed silently to the beat. Soobin barely reached my neck, and over her head, I searched the crowd for Jungho. He was with a different woman this time, but she wasn't half as hot as Soobin. I stared at him until he noticed me, and stuck my tongue out. Rolling his eyes, Jungho said something to his woman. She turned and waved, but I ignored her.

I glanced at Soobin. She was quiet, and her eyes were half-closed. Her shirt wouldn't allow me to glance down, and I didn't bother trying to run my hands over her body. She was too young (she looked about fifteen, for hell's sake) and way too conservative. I sighed to myself and listened to the lyrics of the song. It was some mushy stuff about not leaving the singer and the pain of the breakup and the memories the singer had of her boyfriend. _This is gay_ –I thought.

"Hwoarang?" she asked.

"Hmm?" I glanced down, and she was gazing up at me.

"Why does everyone around here know you?"

"What do you mean?"

Soobin lowered her gaze shyly again. It seemed that she couldn't make eye contact with me for some reason. Had she never met a guy before? "What do they know you for?" she clarified.

"Well," I said, grinning proudly, "I'm famous around the brothels." Soobin's face turned slightly pink. "I'm also the best fighter in Seoul." I wasn't exaggerating, either—I'd never lost a fight, not ever. My longest fight took six minutes, and the other guy's face was covered in blood afterwards. I remembered how still he lay after the fight, and I'd wondered briefly if I'd killed him, when he groaned and tried to move. Hey, he'd caught me off-guard. I'd gotten mad.

"Oh, you fight?" Soobin exclaimed, beaming up at me. I was going to tell her how adorable her smile was to see her blush again, but she was saying something. "I…"

Her voice faltered, and she peered over my shoulder. Her eyes grew wide in—confusion? Terror? "I have to go," she whispered, just as the song was ending.

"What's wrong?" I asked, also looking over my shoulder, but Soobin was already breaking away and pushing her way out of the nightclub. "Bye!" I called after her, but she probably didn't hear.

Jungho had somehow ended up near me. "She ditched you," he laughed.

I flicked him off for the millionth time that day, already scanning the dancers for another girl.


	2. Chapter Two: S

Wassup? This was an awkward and evil chapter for me (and I'm still not satisfied) but at least it gets the job done. Bleh. Anyway, I thought that this is important to note: Sarang means "love" (i.e. saranghae means I love you). Hehe. Isn't it pretty? T ...And also, just so people won't get confused, full names are presented in true Asian style (heck yes!), with last names first.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed (big hug)! And all the others...I'd love it if you reviewed, too! Anyway, I like the plans for the plot I have too much to ditch this story, so if you don't leave a comment, that's okay. But still, THAT'S NO EXCUSE.

Okay, okay, I'll stop bothering you and you can read on and enjoy. And review of course.

arirang

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Chapter Two

The man at the nightclub had been handsome, unexpectedly handsome. The man I had always dreamed of and created when trying to go to sleep at nights looked nothing like Hwoarang. I had thought of someone rich and successful, black, emo-cut hair with golden highlights and very intense black eyes…

Hwoarang had been attractive, too, but in a different way. He had had this "bad boy" look, shaggy, long dyed-red hair falling in layers around his angular and sturdy face. His eyes were the typical darkness of an Asian's, and they had seemed very boisterous and _very_ confident.

_Anyway_, I reasoned, _if this Hwoarang is so popular around here, I'll never get the chance._ Still, I couldn't help daydreaming, could I?

As I retrieved my backpack from the girl at the counter and burst out of the nightclub, I didn't have time to think about how breathtaking he was. I couldn't believe it! What was Mira doing at a place like that? I effectively got myself lost in the crowds on the street, letting myself be swept away with the current. Glancing over my shoulder, I sighed in relief. Luckily, Mira hadn't noticed me and I was safe.

I wondered if she was even concerned about me. Mira had been a friend of mine at the private, all-girls high school I once attended. She hadn't been very close, just someone I greeted every morning and maybe talked with at lunch. She was nice enough, just a little too garish for my taste.

My name was probably all over the media, anyway. It was the third time I'd run away from home. The entire country of South Korea probably wouldn't have been so concerned if my parents weren't San Ho, CEO of Mindae, Inc. (a gigantic computer chip company) and Ji Young, a star actress in countless Korean dramas.

I reached a bus stop and scanned the sign. I had to get to Jae Han's dojang before it was dark and he closed up. I didn't know much about that part of Seoul, but I knew enough to determine that the bus coming up soon would take me near his dojang.

Sighing to myself, I sat down on one of the benches underneath the shelter. The first time I'd run away was when I was seven and stupid. I have always been tired of my overprotective and overbearing parents and the have-to-be-perfect life I led. I have always hated having to become a genius like my father or a beautiful talent like my mother. I have always hated dealing with the other rich snobs at my high school. The fact that my sister Yoomin, three years my senior, was the perfect child didn't help me any.

Anyway, when I was seven, I had snapped after an argument with my parents over my atrocious grades. I've never given much about school, and usually such an argument wouldn't affect me, but my parents threatened to send me to a private, all-girls school (at the time, I had gone to a normal public school). The thought horrified me. I promptly ran away to my best friend's house that night.

Of course, I hadn't secured the permission of my friend's parents. The moment I'd arrived, they had phoned my parents and I was picked up right away, with a good scolding and a _very_ good spanking.

The bus pulled up, and after some of the passengers streamed out, I joined the crowd that pushed its way in and dropped my coins into the box. There was nowhere to sit, but I didn't mind. The ride wouldn't be long. I clutched the cold, metal bar beside me and watched the city life roll by.

After that incident, I had finally worked up the courage to start my own silent protest. A week after my brief escape and capture, I told my parents that I'd joined the drama club for elementary-grade students. I actually had…but I hadn't gone to a single one of the practices after school. Instead, I took the subway to another part of Seoul to Jae Han's dojang.

Yes. I started practicing tae kwon do.

For five whole years, I managed to keep this a secret from my family. My parents were too pleased that I was a part of the drama club to actually question it. My sister took no interest in me, the snobby brat that she was, and our servants never suspected anything either. Jae Han, now in his 40's, I'd assume, and still my close friend and master, knew everything, of course, but he thought he shouldn't interfere and agreed to keep it secret as well.

The moment I began my training, I knew that I was going to be a professional martial artist. The adrenaline rush, the intense focus and concentration, and the perfect coordination and ability of your body…I loved it all! Within a year and a half, I had gotten my first-degree black belt, and by the time I was twelve, I had my fourth degree. In my dojang, I was legendary, and I basked in the glory.

Of course, my mother found out a few months after my twelfth birthday. She was talking to the mother of a girl who was also in the drama club, and learned that I had never been in any of the plays. Mother realized that I had never mentioned any upcoming plays, and soon talked to the teacher in head of the drama club. She put two and two together.

Obviously, I was forbidden from any martial arts. Ever. Again. To really ruin my life, I was transferred to the An Soo Academy for Girls. My own mother signed me up for Hell on Earth.

The bus lurched to a stop, and I wove my way to the doors. It was a short, maybe five-minute walk to Jae Han's. I still remembered this part of Seoul since that day four years ago when I was found out.

I shoved my hands into my pocket and began walking. Six months after martial arts had been taken away, I performed the most _amazing_ run-away. Yes, I ran away for the second time—on a round trip to Thailand, Japan, and China to learn Muay Thai (Thai kickboxing), aikido, and tai chi chuan.

It was the ultimate revenge. No martial arts? Well, I ran away to learn _three_.

It worked out pretty well. I was decidedly smarter about it. I changed my name to Choi Mi Yoon, and pretended I was an exchange student from Seoul Women's University, known for its international programs. I planned to stay in each country for two years, and come back when I was eighteen and ready to _really_ go off to college.

It was easy to fake my age with my mother's actress makeup. I wasn't going to risk an airport, so I took a ship to Kyoto, Japan and learned aikido for two years with Asano-sensei, as planned. Then, I took a month-long voyage to Chachoengsao, Thailand and practice Muay Thai with Master Kasemrat for another two years. After that, I took several trains and a bus into Changzhou, China, but a sullen reception from my parents met me there.

They couldn't have waited to find out for another couple of years?

Anyway, I was spanked again (for goodness's sake, I was sixteen!), and effectively imprisoned. I was assigned a private tutor, an alumnus from Seoul National University (the most prestigious university in South Korea), put under the careful watch of several bodyguards, not to mention the twenty-odd guards now patrolling the penthouse apartment we lived in, and given orders never to leave the building.

I reached the dojang, and glanced up to Jae Han's apartment above it. It was late, nearly 21:30, and I hoped that he was still awake as I rapped on the door.

"Coming!" said his muffled voice. I pressed my ear to the door and heard the distant sounds of a shower. It was shut off abruptly and footsteps raced down the stairs.

I stepped back as he opened the door, a towel hastily thrown around his waist and water dripping from his body. He was as I remembered him, in his early 40's now, but as spry and muscular as a young man. Jae Han's face was the epitome of comic shock. Then, his features morphed into an infuriated scowl.

"Hello, Master," I said formally, bowing. I straightened up and grinned, looking him defiantly in the eye. "Jae Han."

He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into a warm hug. "Sarang!" he laughed. "You haven't changed a bit. Come in."

Jae Han closed the door behind me. I sighed, "Look, you got my shirt all wet."

"Miss Kim," he said very seriously, heading up the stairs. "I'm going to go put on some clothes, and you're going to come up and sit in the kitchen. When I come back from my room, you're going to get a proper lecture and explain to me why everyone thinks you're in Brazil learning capoeira."

Was he angry? I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Exhaling slowly in relief, I followed him upstairs. Jae Han wasn't as mad at me as I thought he would be. Upon reaching the kitchen, I realized how famished I was. I searched his cabinets for a bowl, scooped out a huge blob of rice from his rice-cooker, found chopsticks, and dug in.

I was still eating when Jae Han came into the kitchen in a yellow flannel shirt and jeans. He seated himself across from me at his table. "Now, Sarang, you will explain to me everything," he said.

I downed the rest of the rice. I had been _really_ hungry. "Well," I began, "do you remember when my parents retrieved me from China?"

Jae Han sighed, "Of course, it was all over the news! They upped the security, from what I've heard."

I nodded. "What do you have in your refrigerator?" I asked, already getting up to search. "Anyway, I got really, really tired of all the guards and safety measures and imprisonment. I have to have my freedom." I chose a jar of pickled radishes and sat back down, chopsticks eager to attack.

"So you ran away, but stayed in Seoul?" he asked. "Why?"

I shrugged, swallowing down radish. "I didn't have any particular goal in mind. I needed to get away. I thought I was going to die if I stayed in that place any longer. I reasoned that I didn't need to go to Europe or anything for my freedom, and decided to stay local within the crowds."

"Stop eating all my food!" said Jae Han. "Why do they all think you're in Brazil, then?"

"That's the great part," I laughed, screwing the jar shut and putting it back in the fridge. "I made seemingly offhand comments during supper about capoeira, how it was like dancing yet dangerous. Then, I purchased a ship ticket to South America and ran away the day the ship was due to leave. It was all designed so that my parents would discover my purchase, remember my comments, and decide that I am in Brazil." I grinned at my tae kwon do master. "It's beautiful."

Jae Han tried to put on a strict face, but he failed and broke into a fit of laughter. "Sarang, you think too much. Anyway, you shouldn't do this. I was concerned for you when I heard the news, and I'm sure your family is worried sick. They really love you, Sarang, and…"

I grimaced. "I don't want a lecture," I said. "I know already. I'm just not someone who can be chained down…I can't live like that."

"I understand," he sighed. "Well, did you come to me for shelter?"

I smiled hopefully at him.

Jae Han cocked one eyebrow, and said, "If you're clever enough to send your parents to Brazil, surely you know that when they find out it was all a hoax, they're going to come to me first."

I thought this over. I hadn't considered that. Now that Jae Han had said it, I realized that he was right. Once my parents deduced that I was probably still in Seoul, they would go to the only person in the city that I trusted, Jae Han. "Fine," I said, my hope plummeting. "Do you know anywhere I could go? Or are you going to send me back home?"

He reached across the table for my hand. "You need freedom, I know. I won't turn you back in, because it would ruin you, but I have a friend who might take you," said Jae Han, squeezing my fingers.

And so we tramped the streets of Seoul near midnight, searching for a taxi to take us to this friend of his, a fellow tae kwon do instructor named Baek Doo San.


	3. Chapter Three: H

Hey! After writing this chapter, I felt kind of bad for making Master Baek just...someone there, the way everyone does. Hmph. I'm going to have to find some way to give him a bigger part. I don't know how to do that though...ehh ignore me.

Yeah yuh it's the redhead again! Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Mwah.

Peace out,

arirang

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Chapter Three

I brought my motorbike to a screeching halt in the alley by Master Baek's. The window on the side of his dojang slammed open. "You're early," said my foster father, poking his head out through the opening. "It's only eight. You usually sleep till lunch."

I smirked, giving him a peace out sign.

Master Baek rolled his eyes, smiling. "Come on in, then," he said, withdrawing his head and closing the window.

I walked over to the front of the building and inside, where he shut the door behind me. He gave me a friendly thump on the back. "What's up, Master Baek?" I asked. I looked around the dojang; no one was there yet so early in the morning.

Master Baek rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I was just finishing breakfast," said the old man. "Hmm, I need to shave." He turned and began heading up the stairs.

I followed him. "Hey, hey, don't ignore me," I said, ruffling his hair as we reached the top. "Where's the food?"

"Didn't you already eat?" he asked with a skeptical eye.

I snorted, "Two bowls of red bean rice at Mary's, but that's not enough."

Master Baek just shook his head as he disappeared inside the bathroom. I looked through the fridge and realized that I wasn't actually that hungry, so I decided to watch some television.

The problem was, there was a girl sleeping on Master Baek's couch.

Master Baek? 46-year-old gray-haired man with a mind for nothing but martial arts had a teenage girl on his _couch_, knocked out beneath a blanket? Then I recognized her. She was the girl from the nightclub that I danced with and suddenly ran away!

"Soo…" I began, trying to remember her name. Soo Bin. That was it…except that she had lied to me about her name.

I plopped down onto the floor next to the couch, and rested my elbow on the armrest by her head. She looked even younger asleep, but then again, everyone does.

Master Baek came back from the bathroom, rubbing his freshly shaven cheeks. "Oh, her?" he asked, tying the belt around his tae kwon do uniform. "It's a long story."

"What's her name?" I asked, blowing playfully on her hair.

"Kim Sarang."

I whipped around and stared at him. Kim Sarang was the daughter of the big computer chip multimillionaire and superstar actress! What was she doing on Baek's couch? I examined her face again. I don't watch much news or anything, so I hadn't seen her a lot, but I realized that she did look somewhat familiar. However, last time I'd seen her on the news (a month or so ago when the entertainment channel did a special on her mother), she'd had long, straight hair. Did Sarang think that a haircut would disguise her?

"You know what's funny?" Master Baek asked, joining me on the floor. "Everyone thinks she's in Brazil."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Wait…didn't she run away from home and was found a few months ago? I remember it was really big on the news…"

Master Baek nodded. "She ran away to Japan, Thailand, and China then. She's run away again, but stayed in Seoul this time. You know Jae Han?"

"Yeah, your friend who used to train with you. Why?"

"He used to train her behind her parents' backs, and she came to him for shelter. However, once her parents realize that she's not in Brazil, Jae Han told me, then they'll come to him first." Master Baek sighed, "He asked me to take her in. I don't mind, really, but if I'm found out, that could be a hell's worth of lawsuits."

I laughed, "Why do they think she's in Brazil?"

"They think I'm there learning capoeira," mumbled Sarang, opening her eyes groggily. "The man-whore from the nightclub?" she yawned. "Hwoarang?"

"I resent that," I answered, "Miss _Soo Bin_."

"I don't know, you could've kidnapped me and ransomed me, or something." _Again with the conservative shit!_ –I thought. She pulled the blanket over her head. "It's too early, anyway," came her stifled voice. "You guys won't shut up."

Master Baek stood up and gently pulled the blanket off of her, asking, "Are you hungry?"

Sarang shook her head, sitting up and stretching her arms. "I raided Jae Han's kitchen last night," she chuckled, and yawned again. "If you don't mind, I'll change."

I glanced at her clothing. She was wearing very expensive-looking silk pajamas. She had probably never had to worry about finding a meal the next day or keeping up the rent. She probably had a mansion with several personal chefs, anyway. A rich girl like her didn't belong here. She wasn't going to last a day on the streets.

Sarang locked the bathroom door behind her, and I turned to Master Baek. "Why exactly did she run away to Japan, Thailand, and China?"

"It was outrage on the media," chuckled the old man. "She wanted to be a professional martial artist someday, and wanted to learn aikido, Muay Thai, and tai chi chuan. Her parents want her to be an actress or businesswoman or computer engineer or something, but. Sarang was pretty smart about running away, too. She didn't use planes, but changed her name and traveled on ships and trains. She was going to stay in each country for two years…"

Sarang came back out of the bathroom in khaki cargo pants and a comfortable-looking gray hoodie. I sighed in relief. Her clothes didn't look that classy, so she had a chance of survival. Sarang continued for Master Baek, "I was going to stay in each country for two years, but Dad and Mom found out and met me in China. I never got to learn tai chi chuan."

"You ran away for _four fucking years_?"

"You don't have to make it seem so vulgar."

"But, you're Kim Sarang!" I exclaimed. "Why would you want to run away? You have everything you could ever want!"

"Except for my freedom," she snapped irritably.

Before it turned into a heated argument, Master Baek tapped Sarang on the shoulder. "What do you plan to do today?"

"I don't know," she answered with a light shrug. "Sightsee. I haven't been around these parts before. Then again, I've been imprisoned in my apartment whenever I'm in Korea, so I've never had a chance to get out much."

"I'll show you around," I offered. I had no clue what I was going to get myself into, but she was too cute an opportunity to give up. "I have a motorbike."

She shrugged again. "Sure, why not?"

I punched Master Baek in a farewell and headed down the stairs, Sarang behind me. Master Baek called after me, "If you do anything to her or let anything happen, Hwoarang, you're responsible for all my lawsuits!"

I heard Sarang mutter behind me, "What does he think I am, a spoiled, fat cow?"

"Meet my baby," I said to her, rubbing the handlebars of my precious motorbike fondly as she came outside and closed the door. "You're in for one hell of a ride."


	4. Chapter Four: S

Haha--sorry this took a while. Several notes: About the cheek pinching, that's a very annoying Korean habit. When I was younger, meeting my parent's friends was always hell, since they'd be like "Oh, how pretty!" or "Oh, how cute!" (both Korean habits) and pinch my cheeks. Also, this chapter sounds very cliche to me. I'm sorry if it sounds the same way to you. Of course, the protagonist girl and the protagonist guy meets the friends of the guy and the female friends get jealous and there's a catfight. It was necessary for what I have in mind...(evil snicker).

Which brings me to my next and final note: I'm losing motivation for this fic. I'm trying not to. I thought out this plot too long and too hard and even in this apathetic phase I'm going through, I still like the plot. Yet, as with all stories I write, the drive fades after a few chapters. It may take me longer to update (since it will now take more effort for me to find the motivation to start typing). I promise that I'll at least finish this. But it may take a while. SORRY! And I'll do my best not to put it on hiatus.

With that said, read on, enjoy, and leave comments/questions/suggestions if you like!

arirang

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Chapter Four

Hwoarang had no respect for speed limits. I had never ridden a motorbike before (limousines are a far cry), but did he have to be so reckless? I nearly screamed as he completely disregarded a red light and neatly dodged streams of cars. In terror, I squeezed him closer around the middle, and he laughed into the wind. Through it all, I couldn't help noticing just how good he smelled…like warm, pungent coffee beneath all his cologne.

It wasn't a long ride, and soon we were in a dirtier part of Seoul, near the nightclub where we had met. I was more than ready to get off, but Hwoarang stopped me. "Wait, Sarang. I think you should know this first…I'm the gang leader of the Blood Talons, and I'm about to take you to meet them."

I caught myself from falling off the bike. "The gang leader…?" I repeated, staring at him. I was definitely far from home. What would my parents say? What would my sister, Yoo Min, think of me? The looks on their faces…I grinned broadly and said, "Let's go, then."

Hwoarang and I slid off the motorbike, and he parked it securely. "How'd you like the ride?" he asked.

I answered with a shudder, "I don't ever want to do that again."

He pinched my cheek, and I shuddered again, though not from the horror of the ride. "I'm taking you home tonight. Won't that be fun?" he smirked. "Come on."

I followed him down the alleyway and came to a rusty, boarded-up iron door. Hwoarang pounded on the boards, shouting, "Hey, open up, Kyung, it's…"

A young, muscular man in a T-shirt, boxer shorts, and bathrobe flung open the door. "Yeah, Hwoarang, it's you. Who else has a mouth that big?" laughed Kyung. "You got a woman? She's cute, but she looks like she's only a teenager." I blushed deeply.

Hwoarang shrugged nonchalantly. "She's staying with Master Baek, and I decided to take her around. Besides," he said, grinning and poking a finger into Kyung's chest, "Your leader's a teenager himself."

"You're only a teenager?" I asked, stunned. Hwoarang seemed so much older! "Why aren't you in school, then?"

They both turned to me with surprised looks. I had never felt stupider right then, and again, blood rose in my face. Hwoarang put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me inside, heat spreading across my cheeks. "I don't have time for high school, or the money to pay for school supplies," he said. "High school is shit, anyway."

Kyung shut the door behind me, and my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. "Besides," said Kyung, "Hwoarang is nineteen. He's old enough to go to college, if he had an ass's worth of money. What's your name, anyway?"

"Lee Sarang," I answered without hesitation. Hwoarang turned and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Like the rich kid, Kim Sarang?" he asked.

"I wish," I said very smoothly. "What I could do with all that money…" I saw Hwoarang smirk to himself and walk off. _Bastard, if you give me away, oh, what I would do to you even though just your smile makes my knees tremble…_

"I'm Kyung Ran," said Kyung, pinching my cheek like Hwoarang. My cheek was getting really sore. "I'll introduce you to the gang."

By then, my eyes had adjusted. It was a shabby place, with threadbare sofas and loveseats in a circle around an old television set. There were junk food wrappers and other trash littered here and there, and a small kitchen off to one side was overflowing with junk food. It was a heart attack just waiting to happen.

Seated on the sofas and loveseats were a dozen or so people piled on top of each other, stuffing themselves with chips, popcorn, and whatnot, and staring at the television screen. Kyung pushed me forward, and a few heads turned, but not many. All of them, mostly men and three women, were in their 20's.

"This is our new friend, Lee Sarang," he announced loudly, and mouthed something to Hwoarang. Hwoarang shook his head.

"What did you ask?" I whispered up to him.

Kyung chuckled, "If you were another whore or not."

"You mean that those women are…" I tried to stop myself from staring. I realized that they were wearing very skimpy clothing indeed. Hwoarang was sprawled out on a couch, and one of them was in his lap. I wanted to punch her, but realized how stupid I was. It wasn't like Hwoarang and I had any relationship, as much as I thought about and wished for it.

Kyung went through all the people present. Jungho was the friendly-looking man near Hwoarang, Hyeon Ju was the twitchy guy, Chi Man was the one trying to make a move on one of the women, Tae Yeol was short, Hak Su was the loud, boisterous one in the corner, Won Su was the fat one, and…

I stopped trying. I definitely wasn't going to remember everyone.

All three of the whores stood up and came to me. They were rather pretty, I admitted grudgingly. One of them (I tried to remember her name…Mi something? That was it…Mi Gyeon) put her hand on Kyung's shoulder and turned to me. "We want to talk with her," she said. Kyung nodded and walked away to join the rest of the gang.

Mi Gyeon and the other two herded me down a hallway and into a bedroom. As soon as they had closed the door, I turned and said politely, confusedly, "Um, I'm afraid I forgot your names." They were circling me like vultures. They seemed nice enough…what were they doing?

"I," said the prettiest one, reaching forward and running her fingers into my hair, "am Sora. I'll have you know that I'm the most popular with the men, and I'm not to be messed with." She twisted her fingers and yanked hard.

"What was that for?" I demanded, breaking free of her grasp. My head throbbed weakly. "Did I do or say something to offend you?"

She didn't answer, but the third whore behind me grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back. "Sun Min," she whispered in my ear. "The men will tell you I'm the sweetest, but you better not cross my path either."

I was too stunned to break free. Mi Gyeon walked up to me, gently touching my cheek.

"It's okay, I know your name, Mi Gyeon," I said hastily. Maybe they were mad at me because I had forgotten their names. Touchy people.

Her fingers ran lightly across my cheekbone. "You don't understand," Mi Gyeon said softly. "I am the oldest of the women at 27, and I am to be respected. Now do you get it?"

"Huh?"

"Little bitch," said Mi Gyeon, her voice still soft. "You think you can take Hwoarang from us, but listen to me. We are his. He is ours. We're not going to let some stupid, arrogant little girl steal him."

The moment I understood, her fingers suddenly turned to claws and raked across the side of my face and jawbone. What a cheap way to fight! I still remained calm, though. I would forgive her. It was a misunderstanding. "Mi Gyeon, I never intended to…"

She was examining her long, pink-polished fingernails, now stained with my blood. She silenced me by placing her nails on my neck. "Shut up," she said. "You're annoying. Do you know how easy it would be to jerk down and rip your neck open? Trust me, my nails are sharp enough."

"You're psychotic!" I half-shouted, half-exclaimed. I broke free of Sun Min and broke free of the twisted circle. "I haven't done anything to you! I never thought of taking Hwoarang from you! His master is just giving me a place to stay and…"

"You don't learn, do you?" said Mi Gyeon, growing angrier. She lunged forward, nails reaching for my face.

She shouldn't have done that. I was taken completely off-guard, but my reflexes took control. Before I knew what was happening, Mi Gyeon was stumbling back and screaming bloody murder, blood pouring from her nose. My arm was outstretched, my fingers curled into a fist. "Oh, shoot, I'm sorry," I tried to apologize, but she was shrieking too loudly to hear me. I quickly grew frustrated and glared at her. A bloody nose doesn't hurt that much!

Hwoarang and several other gang members broke into the bedroom. "What the fuck happened here?" shouted Hwoarang over the clamor. He examined the scene. Too late, I realized that it was all too clear what had happened.

Mira and Sun Min flocked to him, trying to explain at the same time.

"It was that little bitch there!"

"We were introducing ourselves…"

"…And she just punched Mi Gyeon in the nose!"

I insisted, "Hwoarang, you can't believe them. They're ridiculous! They were…"

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Everyone shut up!" Mi Gyeon immediately stopped screeching, and I stared in surprise and hurt. "Sarang, I'm taking you back to Baek's."

"But, Hwoarang…" I began, looking up into his eyes and realizing how terrifying they were. How could such a heart-melting face turn so frightening?

He gave me one glare and I said no more. Hwoarang grabbed my wrist and dragged me out the room and outside, the gang members silently getting out of the way.

He started the motorbike and waited for me to get on behind him. "Listen," I said. "It was all a mistake. Look! She scratched me! She was going to scratch me again and I defended myself!"

"Get on," he said, dangerously quiet. "I've known you for a day, but I've know those three for years. I'm sorry, but I'm obligated to place them before you. She may have scratched you, but that was no reason to break her nose. Besides, she's not a fighter like you, and you could've really hurt her. Get on." He sounded like my mother, but I obeyed.

The entire ride back to Baek's, I didn't say a word, and I realized that he didn't smell as good as I had once thought.


	5. Chapter Five: H

Ahh! Sorry this chapter is so short. But I'll make up for it with a longer chapter next time, 'kay? ARGH school starts again tomorrow. Ihatelife.

Anway...enjoy :)

arirang

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Chapter Five

The kid was really mad or something. The entire ride back to Master Baek's, she didn't say anything. I tried to explain to her that Mi Gyeon wasn't that bad, she was actually pretty nice, and she had just gotten jealous. Hey, she's a whore. It's her job to protect her men. Besides, if Sarang were a half-decent fighter, a punch to the nose would hurt a lot. Mi Gyeon wasn't tough like that.

But Sarang didn't even acknowledge I was _there_. It was beginning to piss me off, too. She thought she could make me feel guilty by throwing a tantrum. She went a little too far. I dropped her off without a word and zoomed off on my bike, eager to let the wind wash away the tension and carry me back to my gang.

The next morning, I realized I would have to apologize. She's a woman, and all women will be bitchy for days if you don't grovel with a bouquet. Usually, I wouldn't care, but Master Baek was taking care of her. Pissing off Sarang meant pissing off Master Baek.

After breakfast at McDonald's, I visited a dingy floral shop and picked out a small, cheap bouquet. And then I was off to Master Baek's, with the flowers tucked into my back belt loop.

"Hey, Master Baek," I called, opening the door to his dojang.

Master Baek was training, beating up a punching bag. "Eh? Oh, it's you." He turned and wiped off sweat with the towel around his shoulders.

"What a warm welcome," I said, and grinned to show him I was joking. "Where's Sarang?"

His face looked stunned. "I thought she was sleeping at your place."

"No kidding," I sighed. "I dropped her off here yesterday morning, around 11:00, I think. She…didn't come in?"

Master Baek shook his head, now worried. "Did she run off again?" he asked. "Oh, God, that girl won't stay put!"

I shrugged it off and threw the flowers on a chair. "One of my lady friends scratched her, and Sarang punched her in the nose. I got mad at her and kind of yelled at her. I guess she got really angry," I said. "I wouldn't worry, though. She looks like a fighter. She can take care of herself."

The old man gave me a very stern face. What, a lecture? Aw, shit, I didn't feel like sitting through this. He began, "Perhaps she had a valid reason for…"

"Hey, I'll go look for her," I offered before he could continue. "See ya later, Master."

Revving up my motorbike, I decided that I would get back to my gang and plan another fight. I needed the money. And if Master Baek insisted to know if I had found her when I would come back that night, I'd just say that I didn't. Seoul was a _very_ big place, after all.

As I sped down a little-used street, I felt so free. The wind was whipping my hair and clothes back, I was _flying_, the motorbike was roaring wildly, and I had complete control over my life. If there were a desert near Seoul, I'd conquer it, riding day and night through the barren expanse, lonely but completely liberated…

A small crowd in an alleyway broke my thoughts and captured my attention. I swerved and skidded to a stop by it, earning a few honks from passing cars. I flicked them off and, as soon as I parked my bike, I tried to push my way through the bodies and see what was happening. I was well known in this part of Seoul, and they all moved (in fear?) to give me room.

It was a street fight, obviously. There were about five men against one. I recognized the men ganging up: they were members of the local neighborhood gang, Chi Man Street. The one that they were fighting was pretty good. He was a fast blur, not very strong, but fast enough to take the gang members by surprise and knock them down before they knew what was coming. He had a strange fighting style. I recognized most of the kicks as tae kwon do, but he used a lot of knee and elbow and grappling. It was a very fascinating fight.

Suddenly, the man paused for a moment and flipped hair out of his face. I realized that _he_ was a _she_. And as I realized who _she_ was, my jaw dropped open.

What was the rich brat Sarang doing in a street fight?


	6. Chapter Six: S

Wow this one is two pages longer than usual (on Word). One of my reviewers asked for action...How about approximately three and a half pages of action? And another thing...writing fights is definitely not one of my fortes. It was a long, crazy--what do they call it?--stream of consciousness.

Ah well. Thanks to my reviewers and please read on...

arirang

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Chapter Six

I was so, so incredibly angry. I had never been angry like this before. Then again, I had never met someone like Mi Gyeon before, or been yelled at before except mildly, and usually for a good reason.

I put my hand on Baek's doorknob. For some reason, though, I hesitated. And that hesitation was decisive. Pivoting around on my heel, I strode off down the street as calmly as I could. If Hwoarang made me mad, why should I stay around him? The only thing I regretted was leaving Baek without a word. He was a nice man, and would probably worry about me. He also had all my stuff…but I could always buy more, anyway.

A few blocks down, I realized that Hwoarang probably wouldn't care. I was throwing a tantrum, rebelling, for such a petty reason. Why should he care about me? I'm an insignificant brat not half as important as dear Mi Gyeon, right? He'd find out about my escape and wave it off with a nonchalant hand.

The thought only made me madder. I quickened my pace and walked a few streets, glaring at the shops and other buildings I passed, until I saw what was happening in an alleyway.

It was a small fight, one gangster against another, and the respective gangs on either side. One of the men in the fight finally fell down, and the other gang cheered.

The furious adrenaline pumping through me took over. I don't know what got into me, but I found myself swaggering up to the victorious gang leader. "I'll fight you," I said. "Think you can take me on?"

The leader looked me up and down. He smirked at me. "All right, why not. Let's make a deal. I win, you sleep at my place tonight."

I smirked back. "If I win," I said, "then you'll give me one hundred thousand won."

"Deal." We slapped hands, and the gangs formed a ring around us.

He attacked first with a side kick. He was so slow…and I was in my element. I leaped up and planted both feet firmly into face. He flew to the ground a few yards away, and lay there groaning.

"Hey, bitch, you messed with out leader?" said one of the gang. All of a sudden, all five gang members came at me at once. It was too easy. As they ran at me, they didn't even have time to attack. I slid in, double kneed right beneath the chest bone, and an elbow in the Adam's apple for good measure to one of them. Another lunged at me, fists flailing, but I sidestepped him and tossed him to the ground. A third came, and I let him grapple me. I was close enough, so I elbowed his temple and kneed him hard in the stomach. He stumbled back, and I back-kicked him away.

There were two left, and I smiled at them. They were smarter, I guess. Standing cautiously away from me, they began circling around. I took the time to examine the growing crowd. Was that a redhead just now…?

The gang members took advantage of my distraction and both leaped in with a flying kick. I stepped forward calmly, and they flew beside me. They turned immediately to face me, but by that time I was delivering a series of kicks to the larger one: spinning hook kick to his ribs, roundhouse kick to his other ribs, and spinning jump roundhouse kick to his jaw.

The last one stood there, a mixture of fear and horror on his face. I walked over to him, and brought my fist back to give him an easy punch in the nose when…

My fist met a rock-hard palm of a hand. Hwoarang stood in front of the last gang member, blocking my punch. He closed his fingers around my fist and gently pushed my arm back to my side.

"You can stop now, Sarang," he said.

"It was a deal for one hundred thousand won," I spat at him. "Besides, I was enjoying myself. I was so glad I was away from _you_ and now _you_ have to come here and ruin my day again?" I threw my other fist at him, but he blocked that with his other hand.

"I went to Master Baek's to apologize," said Hwoarang, smiling ruefully. "I even brought flowers, but you weren't there, so I came out to look for you. I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. I guess I just…"

"Don't lie to me." I wrenched my hands from his grasp. "You probably just saw me fighting here and decided to join the fun." Something flickered in his eyes, and he smiled broader, sheepishly.

Oh no. That smile wasn't going to work on me ever again.

I snarled, "Don't try smiling, either. Leave me alone. Let me punch this last guy and I'll go far away. You won't have to worry or care about me anymore, not like you ever did in the first place." I stepped to the left, to reach the last gangster cowering behind Hwoarang, but the redhead moved in my way.

"Go back to Baek's. At least apologize for the worry you caused him," he said. "Anyway, you left all your stuff there."

"I know that. I don't need it. And _you_ caused all the worry I caused him. Maybe _you_ should go and apologize." Hwoarang just stood there, looking surprised. What, he thought I'd be a sweet little girl who'd fall prey to his smiles and obey him like all the other sluts around here? "Get out of my way," I warned him one last time.

"Go back to Baek's," he repeated. He turned to the people watching behind him, and the last conscious gang member. "You want to get your assed kicked, too? Go away," he ordered them.

The moment the last bystander had turned away, I hissed at Hwoarang, "Why did you let that guy go? It was a deal!"

"The kids on Chi Man Street probably don't have one hundred thousand won," he said.

Did he always have to prove me wrong on everything I say and do? I hated feeling like this…so inferior. "I hate you," I told him bluntly.

"I'm sure plenty of people do."

I brought my elbow up to that arrogant face, but he dodged. And we were fighting. A few seconds into the fight, I realized something. Hwoarang wasn't famous around here for nothing. He was really good, actually! He was obviously much bigger and stronger than me, but usually I could use that to my advantage, since I'm small and fast. But Hwoarang was almost as fast as me.

Focus. I had to focus. I realized that hard martial arts, like tae kwon do and the different karate I learned in Japan wouldn't work. I had to be soft…like aikido, and tai chi if my parents hadn't caught me in China.

I used his momentum against him. "Be like water," Tasuke-sensei, my aikido teacher, had said. "Move with your opponent. Flow around the attacks and direct their force where _you_ choose."

Hwoarang launched a few cautious kicks. I dodged them, also on my guard. Suddenly, he dove in fast, his feet catching me by surprise. I instinctively dropped to a crouch and twisted so he was right behind me. Grabbing his shoulders, I threw him over me, his momentum from kicking helping him to fly several yards.

Hwoarang stood up, seemingly unaffected. "That was smart," he admitted, rubbing his head and grinning. "But I won't fall for that again."

He attacked me with a few kicks again. His body was unreadable. One of my best martial arts skills was sparring, but never had I met someone so…vague. He caught me off guard from the side and sent me sprawling. My side ached but I leaped up again. I had to stay defensive…that was the only way to gain an advantage.

Hwoarang's usually warm, dark chocolate eyes were now fiery. He was in his element, too. His eyes were intensely focused on mine, and we circled each other for a bit. He realized what I was doing, and we both stayed defensive.

I stepped in a little closer, and dropped my guard. As expected, Hwoarang leaped in with a high flying kick. I slid beneath him and kicked upwards, a front sacrificing technique. Again, his momentum carried him forward, but he caught himself in midair, rolled, and stood up laughing.

"So you're not a tae kwon do fighter, what are you?" he asked.

"I thought you knew that I ran away for four years."

"Oh, right." Hwoarang laughed, "I've never fought anyone like you before."

"I've never been in a fight this long," I admitted. Usually, they're on the ground within eight seconds, a Muay Thai rule.

Right! I could surprise him with Muay Thai techniques! However, he had already seen me fight those gangsters, and would probably be expecting something like that. Hwoarang was a pretty solid tae kwon do fighter, and I didn't expect anything tricky from him.

He ran, jumped, and roundhouse kicked. I slid to the left, and backwards to avoid his follow-up hook kick. All of a sudden, he turned with a back kick. I raised my arms barely in time, but still staggered back from the sheer strength of his kick.

Hwoarang smirked at me. Before I could recover, he was kicking at me again. How cheap of him! My arms were still up to block, and I didn't have room to maneuver. I blocked each of his kicks, but he was too strong. I heard a sickening crack and felt pain shoot up my left arm.

My forearm had been broken. He looked slightly surprised, but more proud. I shook the pain from clouding my mind and lunged in before he could react. I slammed my elbow into lips and nose, his neck, and his collarbone. He stepped back a little, his lower lip bleeding. Ha! And before he could counterattack, I brought my knee up hard into his groin.

What? He was wearing a cup! Why would anyone wear a cup on a normal day on the streets?

I had to react fast, though, so he couldn't attack again. A punch into his stomach sent him back some more, and I followed up with several angry tae kwon do and karate kicks. Finally, I slid forward once more and completed my favorite combination: elbow, back fist, back kick. (A/N: That's my favorite combo, too!)

He smashed into the wall, and crumpled to the ground, leaving a trail of blood on the brick wall. I backed a little to give him plenty of room to get up. I said coldly, "I hope that taught you a lesson."

Angrily, I spun on my heel and began walking out of the alley when his voice made me stop.

"Why do you think I dropped out of school? The teachers were never able to teach me. I'm hopeless at learning. This fight isn't over yet." Hwoarang stood firmly on his feet, fists up in a fighting stance. A trail of blood ran down his chin, and the back of his head was bleeding, too.

"You want more?" I asked him. He still looked in decent condition to fight. I was breathing hard, though I didn't show it. I couldn't go on too long, or I'd run out of energy. I walked back to him in the alleyway.

My legs pounded up dirt as I ran forward and palm-heeled his chin. Hwoarang fell back again, but didn't fall and turned his sharp eyes towards me. They were different! Before, they had been focused and concentrated on the fight, but now they were strange, as if they wanted to…kill. He slowly continued walking towards me, and I backed up. His eyes were beginning to scare me.

I found myself up against the brick wall. Hwoarang crashed his knuckles towards my face, but I tilted my head towards the right and he met brick. When the dust cleared, I could see a small crater in the wall. "Are you trying to kill me?" I asked. The only good thing about his crazy eyes was that he had no accuracy.

Or, he was expecting me to dodge, because he kneed me beneath the chest bone almost immediately. I was caught by surprise…I hadn't expected anything like that to happen.

The agony was incredible. White-hot knives seemed to slash me from the inside, and I felt warm, metallic blood rising in my throat. But Hwoarang wasn't done. He backed up and I spat out blood, doubled over in pain. I had to concentrate. With great effort, I forced myself to stand up and face him.

Before I had time to think, he side kicked me in the chest, and I smashed into the wall like he had. He was not as merciful as I had been, though. Even before I could slump down, he was kicking me three, four, five times in the torso. I felt a rib crack, but I couldn't feel pain anymore.

And then I was lying limp like a doll on the muddy ground, my eyes closed tightly in pain. Blood flowed in a steady trickle from my throat and out the side of my mouth. I wouldn't put it past him to kick me while I was on the ground, with those eyes. I stayed there on the ground, trying to ignore the red, throbbing mist that clouded my mind's eye, and waiting for him to kill me. Was this how it was going to end? Killed by a psychotic street fighter and gang leader in a dirty alley, one with an unbelievable smile and bloodthirsty eyes?

"Oh, shit! Sarang, I'm sorry!" I heard him drop down beside me, breathing heavily and dripping sweat and blood. Oh, so now he was back to normal? Son of a bitch.

My eyelids felt like stone. Finally, I managed to open my eyes. He was still bleeding from where I'd elbowed him and he'd hit the wall, but other than that, he was just a little tired out.

Hwoarang touched my side tenderly, the one with the broken rib. He glanced over at my face and saw that I was watching him. "Sarang, I lost control of myself. I've never been hurt that much in a fight, and I guess I lost myself…I'm really sorry!" he pleaded. "I'll get you to a hospital."

"No," I said softly. I remembered briefly how his voice had been dangerously soft when he had taken me back to Baek's that morning. My voice was equally dangerous. "Don't talk to me, touch me, or come near me ever again." I pushed myself up with my good right arm and slowly stood up. My head was spinning, but my body didn't hurt as much. I had grown used to the pain.

Slowly but steadily, I walked to the end of the alley. I grabbed the corner of the brick building to steady myself. I didn't know where I was going to go. In my condition, any street punk could come, rape, and kill me if he wanted. I could barely walk, since every step seemed to antagonize my broken rib.

I heard Hwoarang leave the alley behind me. I smiled a little. I always knew he never really cared, and for some reason, it gave me a sense of satisfaction. I could die alone in the gang-ridden streets of Seoul…

Suddenly, I looked up to find him on his motorbike, stopped in front of me. "Let me take you to the hospital. I broke some of your bones, didn't I?" the redhead said, holding out his hand.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" I said quietly. I gripped the bricks so hard my knuckles turned white.

"You're going to die if you don't go to the hospital," Hwoarang insisted.

"Fuck off," I wanted to say, but the world was spinning, and I was falling off the edge of the earth…I fell to my knees and was falling further into darkness. Desperately, I fought for consciousness, but the black hole swallowed me and wouldn't let me go.

The last words I heard before I went unconscious: "Sarang! Aw, shit." And I felt his arms picking me up…


	7. Chapter Seven: H

This chapter is a little shorter, sorry! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Which was like, one, but that's okay.

I did a few calculations in my head (gasp...yeh it was hell) and I think that I'll have around, oh, a little less than twenty chapters. So stick around, no matter how painful it is.

arirang

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Chapter Seven

"Hoy, Doctor Chang!" I called out, kicking the door of the dirty brick building. Sarang stirred a little in my arms.

Doctor Chang used to be the head doctor of his own clinic. However, once he had a terminally ill patient who asked to commit suicide before the death date. Doctor Chang relented and took her off oxygen support, but physician-assisted suicide is illegal. He had to close his clinic and live in the underground, a fugitive from the law. My gang and I usually went to him for our worse injuries, since he wouldn't give away a fellow criminal.

Doctor Chang opened the door, a tall, weedy-looking man in a raggedy suit. "Not you again," he sighed. "What did you do to the poor girl?"

"I didn't rape her," I snorted. "She got beaten up a bit. Can you take a look?"

The doctor motioned for me to come inside. I carried Sarang into the musty, dim room, a wide expanse with one wall lined with beds. Placing her in an empty bed, I turned and said, "How much will it be?"

Doctor Chang pulled up a chair and began examining her. "I'll need to do some X-rays, but it seems like she has a broken arm and rib. That'll be about, oh, five hundred thousand won."

"Thanks, doc."

"Hwoarang," he said as I turned to leave. "This is Kim Sarang. I'm not going to spill, but I don't want to be sued for anything. I can't keep her here for long, maybe two weeks."

"All right," I said. "I'll be back tomorrow."

I rode my bike back to my gang's hideout, already planning another fight. I definitely did not have five hundred thousand won. Sighing into the wind, I felt guilt sink deep inside my gut. Curses ran through my mind. Not only did I feel bad about having to pay, but also, the broken expression on her face as I kicked her lingered in my mind. And then the image of her lying on the ground as limp as a doll…I gripped the handlebars until my knuckles turned pale white.

San met me at the door. He saw the look on my face and grinned expectantly. "Another fight, boss?"

"Yeah," I said. "Get the others."

--(A/N: After that last chapter, I am sick to death of fight scenes. Let's move on, shall we?)

She was awake when I came to visit her the next day. She had been gazing out the dusty window, and turned her gaze towards me as I sat in a chair beside her bed.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

Sarang turned back to look out the window. "Fine." Short and simple, just like that.

"Sarang, I'm really sorry! I lost control of myself and…and…I just got so mad because no one had ever…"

"…Hurt you like that before," she finished for me. "It's all right. You already apologized yesterday."

"Wait." I couldn't tell anything by her tone of voice. It was just…flat. Emotionless. Tired. "You're forgiving me?"

"Yes."

"But," I began incredulously. There had to be a catch. "You're a woman. You don't forgive unless it's kicking and screaming or I give you a truckload of gifts. I'm broke right now from paying the doctor fee, just to let you know."

"I'm not asking for anything."

I waited.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, moisture glistened at the corners. "I need to leave soon," she said, her voice calm despite the tears.

"What?"

"I need to leave soon," she repeated simply. "I think I'll go back to Thailand. Don't worry; I have enough money. And thank you for taking me to the doctor."

She was thanking me? "Good grief, woman, I'd thought you'd beat me up or something once you came to," I said, confused. "But no, you're just lying there, saying thanks! Thanks for what? I owed you that much, at least, to help you out once I pummeled you. Anyway, it's like you've changed overnight. What's wrong with you?"

And then Sarang tilted her head to face me fully, eyes locking onto mine, incredible fire dancing in them. "What's wrong with _me_?" she asked, still quietly. "Why am I here in this rundown hospital in the first place, if something hadn't been wrong with _you_ that day?"

I felt myself wither under her glare. "I'm sorry," I said meekly.

She slumped back onto her pillow without a word.

And I realized why she had been so collected. She was truly angry. All those explosions and temper tantrums were nothing compared to this. I supposed she had good reason—I _did_ almost kill her.

But her silence frightened me.

"Sarang," I said, mustering up as much courage as I could. "You haven't really forgiven me, then?"

"I have. As much as you will ever be forgiven."

"Sarang, if I could go back in time and erase what I had done…"

"…But you can't." Her words cut me off like a dagger. "Everyone has regrets that they wish had never happened. But not every man can control himself before he does something that will turn into such a regret."

"And I'm one of those that can't, I know."

She didn't answer.

"Look, woman, I've got a fight scheduled in half an hour, but I'd much rather have your forgiveness than the money or the fame or the acceptance of my gang." And what stunned me was how fast the words came out, how true they were.

"Don't lie to me," said Sarang. "Go fight. I hope your opponent is luckier than I was."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then saw the smile tugging at her lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but at least it _was_ a smile. I felt something inside me let out a huge, relieved sigh. "I'll come back tomorrow," I told her, getting up to leave.

"When you do…" Her eyes were soft again as they watched the city out the window. "…Bring me a box of truffles."

I said good-bye and left the makeshift hospital, in much higher spirits. Truffles are a heck lot easier than gleaning pardon from eyes like those.


End file.
